


Gutter Assignment

by ddagent



Series: Professor Gold Series [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Flirting, Museums, erotic tapestries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 21:18:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Gold was not looking forward to spending all day with his sophomores at the Fabler Museum of History. But an unexpected meeting with a soaked Belle French might actually turn his luck around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gutter Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at ABC.
> 
> More Professor Gold goodness! This one is set pre-Stacks, in the first semester of Belle's sophomore year [Stacks is set a year later]. As it seems when writing things from Gold's POV, I always end up writing more. 
> 
> schmoo999 prompted me: Old Tapsteries that have naughty scenes on them
> 
> Hope you enjoy! : )

_"Professor Gold?"_

_Gold turned; his jaw dropping as he saw what was framed in the doorway of the museum's archive room. He had left his little group of sophomore students upstairs examining Tudor window panes but it seemed one of them had escaped. Young Belle French, his favourite student, was mere feet away. He hadn't remembered her coming to class in such a tiny skirt or just a bra, but there was no sign of a blouse anywhere. She slid off her heels as she stepped towards him._

_"I've finished all my work."_

_He licked his lips as she came closer. When she was within grabbing distance her thumbs hooked down the sides of her skirt, dropping it down to the dusty museum floor. The black panties stood out like a beacon against her creamy skin and the Professor could do nothing but reach his hands out to touch._

_"Ms French."_

_She smirked before pressing her half naked body against his. She was so beautiful. But he should be good, should push her away or at least lock the door. Then her hand started moving against the front of his jeans and his suddenly hard cock was in her grasp._

_"What do you want me to do now?" she asked; her pretty little mouth curling up in an innocent smile._

His alarm clock went off just as Belle sunk to her knees.

 

"Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck,_ " Andrew Gold cursed, kicking away his bed sheets. His knee was on fire, his cock was throbbing. Not a brilliant way to start a Friday. Not a brilliant way at _all_.

 

After seeing to _pressing matters_ , Gold stepped into the shower to wash away the previous night. He needed to stop thinking so much about Belle French. The young woman had got under his skin from his very first class with her and their constant contact made it impossible to stop thinking about her. She was smart, sweet, and she often seemed older than her twenty years. But she was still only twenty, she was still his student. Still only a sophomore.

 

" _Fuck,_ " Gold cursed as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed for his towel. He now realised why his dream was so specific - he was meant to meet his sophomore's at Fabler Museum of History in order for them to research this semester's final paper. That meant he would be spending the entire day with Belle French in an enclosed area of the museum.

 

She would be the death of him.

 

He dragged on jeans, wincing at his still tender knee. He managed to chuck down another painkiller while he slipped on a blue shirt. Grabbing his suit jacket and cane, Gold headed out of his bedroom and decided to get the day started. The sooner it began - the sooner it would be over.

 

X

 

The drive to the museum in his Cadillac was pleasant, and for once he even had the radio on. The classic rock station entertained him as he drove past the University campus. He wondered where Belle was on that campus, whether she had already left or whether she was in line for her morning latte. Gold hoped she was already at the museum; it had started to rain about half a block after he had left his house and it was now coming down in thick sheets. As he turned the corner leading away from campus he saw a soaked brunette giving up on the bus that had driven away. As she kicked the rubbish bin near her in anger, Gold realised that Belle was neither at the museum, nor getting coffee.

 

He knew he shouldn't, but he just couldn't leave his favourite student out in the pouring rain. Gold pulled up at the corner and reached over to open the passenger side door. "Belle?"

 

The brunette peered down into the car and sighed with relief when she saw it was him. "Professor Gold! Thank goodness it's you and not some crazy stalker."

 

He chuckled a little louder than he should have done. No, he wasn't some crazy stalker. It was not as if he stayed until every student in his class had left in order to smile at her as she went home. It was not as if he got in an hour early before his morning classes were due to start so he could run into Belle at the campus coffee shop as she got a latte and a sugar coated breakfast treat. No, not at all.

 

"Do you need a lift to the museum, Ms French?"

 

Belle nodded eagerly before climbing in his passenger seat. Her black jeans were plastered to her legs, and Gold decided it would be a good idea to keep his eyes out front, his hands on the wheel. But Belle's anguished groan tore him away - she seemed worried about getting the seats of his Cadillac wet. "Have you got any newspaper?"

 

Gold snorted at the sweet girl's worry and reached on the back seat to grab his jacket. He handed it to her. "More concerned about you than the upholstery. You won't do well in class if you're sick. Now start getting warm."

 

Gold turned the heater on as Belle cuddled up in his jacket. She was a sweet kid, a good kid. A beautiful young woman whose white vest was still see-through. It was good to know he was right about her black underwear. They shared a smile as he started the ignition and continued their journey to the museum.

 

"Thanks for picking me up, Professor," Belle said, licking her lips. Colour had returned to her cheeks and that smile he loved was starting to seep back in. "Several idiots in my dorms decided to bash all the clocks in our corridor after getting drunk during _Groundhog Day_. Or _Back to the Future._ I was half asleep when they informed me I should probably get ready for class."

 

Gold chuckled, not for the first time wondering what idiots Belle shared her life with and, not for the first time, wondering how _he_ would wake her up in the morning. "It's alright, Belle. I'm just glad I was coming along at the right time. I hate to think that you could have been out there waiting for god knows how long for another bus."

 

"My hero," Belle whispered as she looked out of her window, not thinking he had heard her. But he had, and he couldn't help the grin on his face. 

 

Rather than continuing the conversation lest it stray into areas that were best left till after her graduation, Gold concentrated on driving to the museum on the other side of town. Fabler was such a dreary little place; it didn't have much going for it tourism wise. The university was good of course, and the museum was well respected. The history of the small town was one of the reasons why Gold had settled there after leaving Scotland. But for a young woman such as Belle, Gold didn't know what held her appeal. There were other universities where she could have flourished just as easily.

 

"We're here," Belle whispered, and Gold realised that they were indeed outside Fabler Museum of History. He was on the board, had been up for the position of chief curator twice. But while Belle was still a student, he couldn't leave his job at the university. He needed to see her.

 

The rain had thankfully drifted away when he parked not far from the museum, meaning that when Belle opened the car door she didn't need his jacket anymore. He was disappointed when she slid it off her shoulders and handed it back to him. He had hated it when she had worn her boyfriend's letterman's jacket, but he liked it when she wore his. "Sorry it's a little wet."

 

"It's fine Ms French. I don't mind if things are a little wet." He had no idea why she was smirking at him, but he beamed at her. "I'll meet you inside. Try not to get splashed by a puddle, eh?"

 

 She threw a bigger grin over her shoulder as she walked off in the direction of the museum. He was a very bad man.

 

But some days, like today, he embraced his need to be naughty.

 

X

 

"Will you please all shut the hell up?"

 

He was dealing with children. Children who could procreate, and spawn more children who were also unable to follow simple directives of being quiet. Gold was trying to get his sophomore class to shut up, but the Friday atmosphere was making it hard for anything to get through. The sophomore class was slightly better than his freshman, but were nowhere near the stressed obedience of his juniors or his seniors. He could actually only tolerate three of them at best.

 

He watched those three sitting at the back of the museum cafe where the sophomore class was, and thankfully they were quiet. Belle was his favourite, obviously - attentive, interested...beautiful. If only she could do better at her written assessments then she could be incredible. The girl sitting next to her was plastered in too much concealer, and Gold knew he would have to have a quiet word with Meg by the end of the day. He was tired of seeing his go to for Greek history being battered around by her jock boyfriend.  Ray was sitting by Meg's knees, hood over his head and messenger bag slung over his shoulder. The lad had fallen into the wrong crowd his freshman year at ­­­UC Grimmsby and he had committed some minor burglaries. But his paper on the Armada and a cheeky paragraph referencing Elizabeth I's pearls had given Gold the incentive to vouch for the young man to come to Fabler. He hadn't been proved wrong.

 

The rest he just couldn't stand. "Shut up or you are all failing!" That quickly quietened his class. He could see Belle smiling at the back over a cup of coffee. The rain had made her curls more pronounced, and his fingers itched to cling to her. "Alright, now that you've all shut up I can tell you why we're here. We're going to be in the tapestry wing today. Each of you will be assigned a tapestry and I want you to write a paper looking at the representation of the tapestry in historical opinion. Different opinions count here, dearies, so you're going to have to do your research."

 

As a collective groan echoed in the atrium, one of the museum's staff came out of the woodwork to escort the babble to the tapestries wing. The blonde gave him a polite smile as she came to gather his students - he may have yelled at her last year after he hadn't been informed about certain _delicate_ tapestries that had been put in front of two strictly religious students and one loud mouthed class clown who was using History as an easy credit. It was such a pity that the young man had tripped over his cane that day.

 

Belle, Meg and Ray began to follow the rest of their classmates, but Gold used his cane to grab Ray's messenger bag before they went through the double doors to the rest of the museum. "You three, with me."

 

"Did we do something wrong?" Meg asked as they followed behind him in the opposite direction of the tapestry wing. Gold could only imagine, considering the amount of bruises she came with to class, how often she asked that question.

 

He gave Meg a weak smile. "No, you didn't. You three happen to be the only students I can trust." Belle, who was now at his elbow, beamed at him. "As such, you get to see the _special_ tapestries."

 

He and Belle exchanged a look as he took them down another corridor to the preservation room. Those tapestries had been taken out to be cleaned during their visit, and as long as one of the museum staff was on hand to supervise, there was no reason why his three most responsible students - well two watching over a respectful one - couldn't examine them.

 

They had to put all their belongings in special lockers and remove all spare clothing. Ray groaned as he removed his hoodie, the boy trying not to damage his gelled hair. Meg shrugged off her jacket and Belle followed suit, leaving her in that white vest. He tried to keep his eyes in his head.

 

Danielle, the preservation room supervisor, greeted them. "Professor Gold told me you are his three best sophomores. With that in mind, welcome to the preservation room. These three tapestries contain very graphic material so we try to remove them during the presence of educational parties. You will not be allowed to touch the tapestries, but you will be allowed to watch them being cleaned at the end of the day." Danielle smiled at Gold over the three students. They had a good relationship - she had vouched for him as curator twice. "Now if you'll follow me?"

 

Gold watched as Ray and Meg made their way after Danielle into the preservation room. Belle hesitated and turned to him. Her hands had curled inside the front pocket of her jeans. "Am I really one of your best sophomores?"

 

He smiled at her. She looked so nervous, so hopeful that he really meant it. "Aye, you are. You just need pushing in the right direction and I know you will do exceptional things."  

 

Belle brushed a curl behind her ear. She was so damn beautiful. He wanted to bring out the best in her, wanted to challenge and summon the incredible historian he knew she was but for some reason couldn't be right now. "Thank you Professor Gold."

 

"You're welcome, Belle."

 

With a bounce she followed her classmates into the preservation room. He watched her follow the procedures, tie up her brown curls and roll on a pair of white gloves. He left before they could argue over which tapestry they each would get. His presence was more needed supervising the other twenty upstairs in the tapestry wing. He would need to get a strong coffee before he did that.

 

X

 

Gold was currently in the museum cafe again, reading through one of his colleagues books on James I. He had never read such dribble in all his life. He was currently marking pages of particularly distasteful material for the academic critique he would write up later that night. Some Friday night that would be. Still, it was better than the alternative - wondering exactly what Belle was up to and with whom. He had a problem.

 

"Professor Gold?"

 

He looked away from the book and found that Belle was standing right there. It seemed to be the day for thinking about her and then her turning up. He'd have to see if that worked in his bedroom later. She looked awkward standing in front of him, so he gestured for her to take a seat. "Please, Belle. Everything okay?"

 

She nodded, flushing a little. The waitress came round. "Do you want a coffee, Belle? My shout." The little thing nodded again, asking for a caramel latte. He gestured to bring another sandwich for Belle to have. He doubted in her rush that morning that she had thought about getting something for lunch. "So what's up?"

 

"Everyone's gone for lunch and I thought this would be a good time to talk to you."

 

Gold nodded. "Okay. Everything alright with your tapestry?"

 

"Yes!" Belle smiled. "I was just wondering if there was any chance that I could do things orally."

 

He coughed, some coffee settling at the back of his throat. Thankfully the waitress chose that time to bring along Belle's coffee and the sandwich which he immediately pushed towards her. "Orally?" he wheezed.

 

"Yes - my essay? I was wondering if I could give an oral presentation instead."

 

His throat and his mind decided to calm down, although he was already picturing real life Belle picking up where the dream version had left off. Taking another sip of his coffee, he decided to slip into professor mode. Much safer that way. "Belle, why I appreciate your oral skills," an awful sentence but Belle seemed to smirk at it, "I honestly think you need to work on your written work. Even if your last essay was..."

 

"-passable."

 

"-unreadable, would be a more accurate term." Gold watched as she took half of the chicken sandwich he had bought and took an eager bite. Maybe one day he'd actually get to take her to dinner instead of buying her a sandwich just to keep talking to her for longer. Before he'd thought of his next question she had devoured half of it. "Have you got any ideas on what you'll do your paper on?"

 

Belle nodded, smirking. "I do, Professor. I'm thinking of comparing my tapestry to some of the paintings found at Pompeii."

 

"Really? In what context?"

 

"Well, my tapestry is fairly....graphic." Belle stated, and Gold gulped. Please not let her have _that_ one. "I mean, Ray's has what looks like a werewolf tearing out some guy's intestines while he's tied to a tree. But mine has a hunter on his knees with his..." Belle flushed, trying to find the right word to use instead of 'cock'. She floundered for another moment until she got there. "A hunter on his knees in front of a queen looking excited. I think it's a queen, she's wearing a poorly stitched crown."

 

"Doesn't she have jewels on her robes or anything?" Gold asked, taking another sip of his coffee, trying not to appear too 'excited' himself.

 

"She doesn't have _anything_ ," Belle stammered.

 

Gold watched as Belle's blush moved down her body, reaching the neckline of her vest top. He hated that tapestry, and he had avoided it the last few years for good reason. It was particularly graphic in its nature of sex, particularly oral sex. And now the image of Belle kneeling down in front of him would not shift. "So how does that fit into Pompeii?"

 

"I was thinking of looking at the Pompeii drawings found at the brothels, they have some great reproductions in the Roman wing." Gold nodded. He'd been responsible for bringing those into the museum. "I would look at the different purposes of each of the tapestries, and see how the design varies depending on purpose."

 

Gold nodded, planning his next words carefully. "It's a good idea. Perhaps more one for an art historian."

 

"Shit," Belle whispered. The sandwich was finished. "I thought I had something there."

 

Finishing his coffee, Gold laid down some money to cover the bill and a particularly generous tip considering his coffee was lukewarm. "Come on, show me your tapestry. We'll work something out for you. I don't want to see you fail."

 

"Thank you,Professor _._ "

 

Belle grabbed her stuff and went to put some money towards the coffee but Gold placed a hand over hers. Her skin was softer than he had imagined. And warm, so warm. "I said it was my shout, Ms French. Come on; let's work out which sex act you're going to study from a historical viewpoint."

 

Her shocked face at his attempt to lighten the mood was worth it. The loss of her touch, however, was not.

 

X

 

The preservation room was empty when he and Belle arrived. They went through all the necessary procedures, Gold slipping off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves to enter. Her tapestry was the closest and Gold swallowed as he looked down the stretched material. Embroidered onto the fabric were obvious erotic scenarios - appendages were made quite clear in the fabric, and the position of some of the people was...interesting.  

 

"Which blow job do you want to cover first, Professor Gold?" Belle smirked, her lips curling in an amused grin as she turned to him, getting him back for his words in the cafe.

 

She would be the death of him. "How about we start with what you can see in the tapestry?" They began right at the beginning, a young woman embroidered naked and on her knees. Gold stood behind Belle as their hands rested lightly on the glass, his body trying hard not to touch her too much lest he give away exactly how much he desired her. He really needed to get a better handle on his attraction.

 

"Well this woman is down on her knees in front of what looks like a man made out of gold," Belle leaned closer, brushing her breasts against the glass. Gold immediately threw his hands up to stop him pressing them against her hips. _Very, very bad man!_ "Seriously, why is she naked?"

 

"Some young women like to fall to their knees naked while in front of powerful men," he said offhandedly, but his words resulted in Belle wagging her eyebrows in his direction.

 

"Is this something you have a great deal of experience in, Professor?"

 

They were flirting. They were actually flirting. "Hopefully more experience than you have of dropping to your knees, Ms French."

 

"Shows what you know," Belle shot back before turning to the tapestry. Thank goodness they were alone. They were crossing so many lines. "So we have this woman here, and then the queen later on." Belle paused as she moved up the tapestry. "Then we have the queen again, but on her back with a man with a very large...appendage on top of her."

 

"Don't forget his rather excellent top hat," Gold smirked. "One should always be dressed to impress when shagging a queen."

 

Belle burst out laughing, smacking him on the arm. "Behave, Professor." She grinned. "I didn't know you could be this funny."

 

"It only comes out when I make dirty jokes, Ms French," he smirked. He had never been this way with any other student. No one had ever summoned this laughter in him, this playfulness. Not since-"Okay, back to your paper. Can you tell me which era these tapestries are from?"

 

Belle looked them over, her eyes narrowing as if to determine a period, a country. "I'd guess..."

 

Gold shook his head, sighing. "Don't guess. Guessing makes you an idiot in historical circles."

 

"Like Professor Zosotskin."

 

He made a face, remembering his colleagues badly written book buried at the bottom of his bag. "You read it?"

 

"Only got half way through. I am more looking forward to your scathing retort."

 

He chuckled. "Aye, that will definitely be something worth reading. Well, Belle, historians are still arguing about where they came from. They were found buried in the bottom of what looked like a monastery up in New England, but some historians say they're actually German, other's say they're Romanian. Some say the tapestries come from the original settlers of America."

 

"So I should try and find out where they're from?"

 

He shook his head, resisting the urge to reach up and tousle her hair. Or just kiss her. "No, you research what other historians have come up with and you compare them, see which is more accurate and what is less accurate. Your essays fail a little when you try and solve the mysteries of history."

 

Belle deflated and that wasn't his intent. She was beautiful, intelligent, and would make a wonderful historian. He just needed to get her out of some bad habits. He wrapped a tentative arm around her shoulders, squeezing her far one gently with his hand. "You'll be fine, Belle. I know you will. I have faith."

 

She nodded, leaning into his embrace a little. "Thank you Professor. How long does the museum stay open?"

 

"Pretty late. Just tell them you're in one of my classes, they'll let you stay here all night." He glared at her. "But don't, Ms French. Don't make me get out of my warm bed at three am to see if you've fallen asleep in here."

 

Belle ducked her head, slipping out of his embrace. Even if they could never be lovers, Gold hoped that when she graduated they could be friends. "I promise Professor."

 

"Good girl." He checked his watch. Ray and Meg would return soon and he should really make sure all his students returned from lunch. "I'll check in with you later, yeah?"

 

"Yeah. Thank you again."

 

"You're welcome, Belle."

 

He smiled warmly at Belle French, watched those blue eyes brighten with determination. She would be okay, he knew she would. She just needed to get her head around her assignments and she could accomplish great things. Andrew Gold exchanged one more smile with her before slipping towards the exit of the preservation room. The gold man from Belle's was also on Meg's tapestry, sitting next to a brunette whilst attending to a spinning wheel.

 

Gold reached up to the charm around his neck as he left the room, grinning. Every time he wore it, he had a good run in with Belle. Damn thing was definitely lucky. 


End file.
